Separate names with a comma.
"Oh, really?" she asked, following him. "What's the mission, Cap'n?"
His eyes widened. "She's still alive?"
She grinned at him, her fingers curling trustingly in his hand. "It's a terrible idea."
"It might not even be like that. But we should... investigate."
"No. No, no, no," she said adamantly, placing her fingertips on his mouth to shush him.
He pulled her hand away, laughing. "It's not my fault."
"Abel, no," she said immediately.
He spoke louder, his voice muffled. "Your grandma?! Princess, ew!"
"Thank god. You're a genius."
"That is so nasty."
She laughed goodheartedly, shaking her head. "No, I thought... I don't know. I thought you were building legs for the beanbag chair."
He was laughing, but still holding his side. "Ew. God, that's so gross."
"The legs?" she said, looking confused. "You mean... yours?"
"Your grandma was lusted after by Romero!"
"God, we're amazing," she said, leaning against him playfully.
"Yeah, that makes it even grosser. Ewhewhwhwhwew."
She looked over at him, a playful grin on her face. "It's perfect. Thank you for helping, Abel."
He started laughing, leaning against the counter. "Ewww..."
She stood with her hands on her hips. The room was softened with the light blue paint. Ophelia had made clouds, large white ones along the wall....
He looked baffled, frowning at her. "What? That... does he know your grandmother?"
